Trade My Heart
by Choco-Loki
Summary: Ludwig wanted to finish his paperwork without being interrupted by his lover every five minutes for once.   Antonio wanted his dear Lovi to be just a bit more affectionate. They get their wish, but that's not all   they received. GerIta, Spamano, USUK.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: An idea struck me during the depth of studying for finals. This story has sort of the same gist as Paper Hearts, which I deleted, but there are no AUs this time, although I suppose they are somewhat similar. oTL||| Hope you guys enjoy. Sp/grammatical errors corrected after publication.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

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><p>Ludwig did not know why he was at a bar with Antonio, which, for all intents and purposes, really was pointless, since he was designated driver and can't get drunk anyways. But being the nice guy (which was also a euphemism for a total pushover) he was, Ludwig ended up staying there until eleven o' clock. And counting, of course.<p>

And he had no idea Antonio could drink so much wine, either. Nope.

The blond took out his paperwork and began to scan it quickly. Was it sad that he had to sneak out to a bar to finish his work because Feliciano had been pestering him nonstop at the hotel? Perhaps, but the Italian seemed especially clingy today (not that he wasn't every other day of the week).

Antonio was currently propping his head on his arm and circling the hanging lights with one finger. "Whatcha got there, Ger—" He hiccupped. "—manly?"

He ignored how creepily his name was being distorted and threw Antonio a hard look. "My name is Ludwig," he said pointedly, for the sake of the bartender and the other human patrons. "And to your question, this is my paperwork." _…that I'm supposed to hand in by tomorrow even though I'm hardly halfway through. _

"Why'd you bring it out here?" He laughed, grabbing at the glow of the lights idly. "I'm catching the sun! I'll give it to Lovi as a present…"

"Right…" But inside, Ludwig thought Antonio was doing a pretty good job staying slightly sane, especially since he'd downed eight glasses of liquor. Better than Arthur, at least. "I should bring you back to your hotel."

"Nah…Lovi kicked me out again…I'll go back tomorrow…"

"What did you do this time?" Ludwig asked drily. Speaking of which, Feliciano must be worried sick, but he wasn't done with work yet…

"Nothing, I swear!" he cried, shooting up in his seat and immediately holding his aching forehead with his hand. "Ow, ow, ow…"

Ludwig stuck his hand into his briefcase, looking for a pen. "You invited France and my bruder over without asking him, didn't you?"

"No! Not this time." He reached for his half-emptied glass, but Ludwig pushed it to the side and shoved a cup of water in his hands. "I mean, they came over, but I didn't invite them."

"That's why he kicked you out?"

"No. He kicked me out because I kissed him in front of Gilbert and Francis."

"Hm." Ludwig's pocket began to buzz; he removed his phone and blinked at the flashing words—_53 text messages from Feliciano Vargas. _Oh, shit. "I really think I should be heading back—"

Antonio lunged for Ludwig until he was literally hanging off from his waist. "W-what the hell are you doing?" the blond hissed.

"You can't leave me here! You have to help me explain to Lovi!"

"You want _me_ to explain that you've been wasting away at a bar?"

"You have to help me, _Alemania_! He will butcher me if I go back like this! You know he used to be the Underboss in the Italian Mafia, right? Do you even _know_ how many families there are in the Italian Mafia?"

"Uh…"

"No, you don't! There's hundreds, and he won't need their help if he wanted to kill me! He'll butcher my organs himself and I'll wake up in a bathtub of ice water and—"

Oh crap, oh crap, people were starting to stare. Ludwig cleared his throat, trying to pry the Spaniard's arms off of himself. "Antonio, you don't know what you're talking about. Even if he was the boss, which he is _not_—please let go of my thigh, Spain—he wouldn't do something like that—" His pocket hummed again; 54 messages from Feliciano now.

"Underboss!" Antonio corrected loudly. "That's why he's so angry whenever he remembers it! Let me stay over, please! I'll stay in Gilbert's room, I won't bother you or Feli at all! And I promise I won't let Gilbert into your room when you and Feli have se—"

"_What the hell_!" He slapped some bills on the counter and walked on, dragging Spain across the floor at the same time. "Let me go, you're making a fool of yourse—"

"Please let me stay, please, please, please, please—"

"No! I have work to do! And we have a meeting tomorrow!"

Antonio's voice turned serious as he stared at Ludwig right in the eye as best he could from the floor. "Believe me, _Alemania_, I wish Lovino was more affectionate like Feli, just for a day—actually, make that three—"

"And I wish Feliciano could pick up after himself and finish his paperwork on time, but that's not going to happen, is it? I'll call a cab for you, just let go of my leg!"

"No! I'll pay rent!"

"I don't need it!"

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><p><em>Outside…<em>

Arthur laid his head on Alfred's shoulder, drunkenly swinging his empty bottle around like a toy airplane. "You can't drink, Mrs. Fairy, this is just for me!"

"Hey…Artie, will you quit moving around? You're going to fall off—"

The Englishman held on to Alfred's neck tighter. "Oh, belt up, git. I can bloody take care of myself, I didn't need you to help me back—"

"Artie, you were on the counter at the bar and stripping yourself. And France was trying to stuff money down your pants."

"I did no such thing! I am a gentle—" His sentences ended with a squeak and a giggle. "I am a gentleman! And I got two hundred dollars, too!" He waved the bills around, laughing.

"That you are, Artie." Alfred raised his head towards the sky, his eyes lighting up. "Hey, check that out! It's a shooting star! I wish Iggy would stop drinking with France—"

Arthur scoffed, "I don't need some sodding star to grant my wishes." He took out his wand and shook it around. "All I need is this! I'll make everyone's wishes come true!"

"Can you make yourself less drunk?" Alfred inquired, eyeing the wand amusedly. "Did you buy that from Toys R—"

"Can I make myself sexier, is that what you said? I'm already there, love…" Then his head flopped to one side and his breathing evened out.

Alfred sighed. "Good night, Arthur."

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><p>The first thing Antonio did when he woke up was to feel his back to see if his kidneys were still intact. The next thing he noticed was that it was daytime, he was in a bed, and he wasn't wearing a shirt.<p>

He lifted the covers open, his eyes bulging out when he saw an equally naked Italian hugging his waist, burrowing his head into the pillows. That could only mean one thing.

Lovino was planning to do something worse in the morning, so that he could listen to Antonio scream when he carved out his innards—

The man stirred sleepily before looking up at Antonio. "Good morning, Spain…" He slung his arm around Antonio's shoulder lazily and smiled.

He smiled. And Antonio wasn't twitching dead on the ground, either.

Antonio knew he should never ever do this, unless he wanted to die an early and horrible death, but he touched Lovino's curl, staring at it in mortification. "Are you—" The curl was pointing towards the right, this wasn't Feliciano…

Lovino bit his lip, his face reddening instantly. "It's so early in the morning, Antonio…" he whispered, his lips curving into a sultry smirk. "But…"

"I'm sorry, Lovi, I was just checking—_mmph_!"

For the first time in his life, Antonio was pushed back on the bed by an eager Lovino, and soon he found nothing else to say. If he actually succeeded in ignoring Lovino, who was slowly nipping from Antonio's lips to down his neck, he would start to question the strange behavior his lover was exhibiting and how the hell he managed to get back to his room.

But of course, Antonio had never been one to complain, especially not now.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **The cover of the Stumbleine doujinshi by Hakuku has made me so sad, it's really heartbreaking (beautiful, but heartwrenching, dammit). I need some happy endings. Sp/grammatical errors, DM-linked words, and plotholes will be fixed after publication.

Let's see, I guess I should mention that England didn't alter the Italy brothers' personality, but had brought out a side of them that would've happened if they'd witnessed something. In short, he had changed something in history that only (but drastically) affected Feliciano and Lovino.

Yeah, it's going to have time traveling. Sort of like Paper Hearts, but not AU. Alternate Reality, maybe. x3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

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><p><em>Hotel suite…<em>

Ludwig emitted a low groan and flipped over on his bed, his arms sore from carrying (more like dragging) the Spaniard back to his suite. It was too late at night (hell, it was so late it had probably been morning already), thus he didn't question Lovino's quiet behavior when he opened the door; he just counted himself lucky and that Lovino could probably care less if Ludwig left Antonio in a ditch or something. He sank back onto his pillow and was completely prepared to fall back into unconsciousness when the fact that he had a meeting today hit him right on the head like a ton of bricks (or potatoes, whichever one hurt more).

In his attempt to scramble up, Ludwig rolled down the mattress in a tangle of bed sheets. He reached up and groped around the bedside table until he grabbed the alarm clock: _11:02. _The meeting (that _he_ was supposed to lead) started at 9:30. "Shit!"

The blond practically jumped into his suit and threw on his jacket. His hair wasn't slicked back, but there was no time. His files, where were his files? He was positive they were on the coffee table last night until…

…until he gave the papers to Feliciano to sign last night! And Feliciano must still be asleep!

Ludwig stepped out and knocked on the room next door. "Ital—" He stopped; there was a note taped on the wood—_Went with Kiku to meeting. Brought documents. _

Okay, so one part of him was temporarily relieved, but that brief moment of happiness was quickly overran by a rush of utter disgrace. Ludwig dashed out of the hotel lobby then, holding his briefcase in one hand and a banana (which would have to substitute as breakfast for now) in the other, trying to flag down a taxi at the same time.

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><p><em>Meeting room…<em>

The blond crashed through the doors, panting heavily as he struggled to regain his composure. This wasn't happening, this never happened to him. This was something Feliciano usually did, not _him_. "I—I'm—I'm here…"

He suppressed a manly yelp and jumped back as a bullet imbedded itself on the carpet right in front of his foot. What he heard then was a cool, even tone replying simply, "You're late, Germany."

Ludwig looked up, stricken. There was Feliciano, his soft brown eyes narrowed in annoyance, frowning at him as he shoved the gun back into his jacket pocket. "I-Italy—"

"Take a seat. I need you to go over some items on the list before you turn in some half-assed work." He slid his file to Ludwig's spot. "Does anyone know where Spain and my brother are?"

Francis shrugged. "I haven't heard from Toni since yesterday."

Feliciano pointed at the Frenchman's laptop. "I want you to call him, put him on webcam and show him on the screen. The next item on agenda involves him." He turned to Ludwig, who was gaping at him in utter confusion. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "Take a seat."

"He's on, _mon cher_," Francis said doubtfully. "But I don't think you want to—"

"Don't be ridiculous, put him on."

With another tap, the face of Lovino Vargas appeared on the screen; his hair was absolutely ruffled and, although he was covered by a blanket, it was obvious that he was in a bed and possibly unclothed.

"Good morning, fratello," he slurred, brushing a stray bang away. "Sorry that Toni and I couldn't make it to the meeting, there were other matters that needed to be taken care of—"

Elizaveta was ogling at the screen, reflexively whipping out her mini-camera along with Kiku and snapping multiple photos. Feliciano growled, slamming his palms on the table, "Where's Spain?"

Lovino pouted as he adjusted his camera towards an equally disheveled Antonio, who'd seemingly passed out. Kiku immediately shoved his camera at Elizaveta and promptly excused himself, cupping both hands to his nose. Alfred, apparently miffed at being upstaged, folded his arms and propped his feet on the table.

"That's nothing," he jeered. "Me and Artie were all over the hotel room last night, and he was so loud, to—"

Arthur flung his folder at Alfred's face, mortified. "Shut your trap!"

"Sounds like _mon petit lapin_ got lucky—"

"France! Keep your mouth shut or I'll shove you off the building!" Feliciano shot a hard glare at the Frenchman, who looked back at the Italian in shock. "Turn the camera away," he added to Lovino.

After a minute, Lovino's profile reappeared on the screen. "You should visit us, Feliciano. You and Ludwig. It can get quiet without Toni around sometimes…"

"_Fratello_," he snarled (to which Ludwig observed with a horrified expression, for he'd never seen his sweet little Feli's face get contorted into such a state), "Do you think you can skip out on meetings and—and do _this_?"

Lovino's smirk was wiped off instantly and he pursed his lips, his brows knitting together in irritation, as if trying to say, _How could I give less of a fuck? _"I can do whatever I please," he said shortly.

"Not if it involves work," Feliciano said.

His brother gazed at him in disinterest. "Don't act like you are so perfect, Feliciano. You think you can keep your hands clean if you push all the dirty work to me, not that I mind—"

Feliciano scowled. "At least I am not the one sleeping around to get what I want," he retorted icily, "as I imagined that is what you are doing with Spain."

"Of course not, you think too little of me," Lovino purred. "Visit me, Feliciano. As the head you should at least show your face once in a while. The Mafia can't run itself—"

At that last moment, Feliciano's eyes widened in terror; he rushed over to Francis's side and slammed the laptop shut before Lovino could finish his sentence. As Lovino's face vanished from the screen, he looked up at the silenced nations, his eyes darting around at the other countries suspiciously.

"Meeting adjourned," he said finally. "We'll continue next week, same time."

Elizaveta set her camera down, looking concerned. "Are you feeling alright, Feli—"

"Yes!" The outburst had been harsher than he'd meant, but he swallowed down his apology. "I'm fine." Brown eyes turned on Ludwig, though he refrained from saying anything until the rest of the nations had sluggishly departed, until they were the only two in the room.

"You overslept," Feliciano stated flatly. "I finished some of your paperwork for you. You just need to sign and you'll be set."

Ludwig gaped at him. "What was _that_?"

"What was what?"

"You!" Ludwig gestured wildly with his hands at the file, then at the brunette. "My paperwork, your brother and Spain—you!"

Feliciano narrowed his eyes. "How much did you hear?"

"…Uh, mostly everything, I'm sitting right here—"

"No," he interrupted. "I meant how much of the conversation did you understand?"

"Not much," Ludwig admitted. "But your brother said something about the Maf—"

"No!" Feliciano stared right into Ludwig's eyes—whether it was horrified or frightened, Ludwig wasn't sure. "He said no such thing, you got it?" When Ludwig gave a slight nod, Feliciano visibly relaxed and turned around to quickly gather his files.

"Feliciano…why are you acting like this?"

His hands momentarily paused, but resumed cleaning up when the surprise wore off. "I've always been like this."

"No you're not!" Ludwig rose from his seat and stopped the Italian from leaving. "You're not normally like this—"

"Please move, Germany, I have to be somewhere—"

"Where? Is it illegal?"

He smacked away an arm reaching for his wrist. "I'd prefer it if you'd keep out of my business, Germany, now move out of the way or I'll make you move—"

"Feliciano, what happened? I was supposed to run the meeting—"

Feliciano rolled his eyes. "And you weren't here, so I did it. How hard is it for you to get that fact in?"

"B-but—you're supposed to sleep in and take siestas and waste away the entire afternoon playing with Greece's cats—"

Feliciano froze. "Are you…are you saying I'm _incompetent_?"

Ludwig swore to God, he had never seen Feliciano this riled up. "No! Not _really_, but what I'm trying to say is that you…you don't…"

His voice was dangerous, like water about to boil over. "I don't…?"

"You don't…uh, like to run meetings." Ludwig placed his hands on the other's shoulders to prevent him to walking off. "You'd rather eat pasta and comment on football and say 'Ve' every other sentence—"

Feliciano's voice was strangled as he whispered, "I haven't used that word since he die—" He stopped himself and violently wrenched away from Ludwig's grip. "_Get out of my way_."

"Since what? Who died? Who's 'he'?"

"Since when did you care? You didn't even exist back then—"

"Was it that person you told me about? Was it Holy R—"

"Y-you—" Feliciano's cheeks turned red. "I never told _anyone_ about him. Was it France? Did he tell you?"

"I knew it a long time ago, you told me your—"

Ludwig honestly didn't see Feliciano ball his fist and move his arm back, but the next thing he knew Feliciano had called him a bastard and punched him in the jaw.

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><p><em>Hotel suite…<em>

Lovino pushed the laptop off and slipped down the bed, throwing on a robe as he picked up his clothes. His brother should loosen up, but since the day Holy Roman Empire was dissolved Feliciano had become different. Although Lovino would have to admit that his brother wasn't the only one that changed.

His eyes wavered to Antonio; the even rising and falling of his body suggested that he was deeply asleep. Lovino glided over and just barely brushed his lips on Antonio's forehead. He had finally caught the Spaniard.

Now he was going to shatter his heart.


End file.
